Terminus
by Ok Yong
Summary: If you could, would you give a boy back his life—at the expense of another's?
1. The Vestigial Boy

Cora wasn't a science geek—never had been and never will be—but she sure as hell knew that something wasn't right.

No_ shit_, Sherlock; what was your first clue?

Maybe it was him breathing like he'd run a million miles, yet he technically didn't need air to survive. Maybe it was him sweating entire buckets of ice-cold sweat, but it wasn't possible for him to overheat—not with the tech that Tenma put in there. Maybe it was him drifting in and out of consciousness constantly, even if he didn't need sleep to function, and only slept out of a habit she didn't know the origins of. Or maybe it was just because it was Astro who was on the goddamn bed with a fever.

Yes.

A _fever_.

When she'd first seen him use his rockets, two years ago in a fight against one of Hamegg's robot fighters, it had come as such an amazing shock to her that she just couldn't believe it. A part of her had still thought Hamegg was wrong, wrong, _wrong_. A part of her had still thought that it was just simply impossible for the heartfelt, animated friend could actually turn out to be a cold lump of microchips and hardware. But she'd come to decide that microchips or no, he was her friend, and a damn good one, too. Half of that was still because she couldn't accept he was a robot. She loved him. He couldn't be a robot.

They'd both been thirteen when the Peacekeeper destroyed Metro City. Cora was fifteen now, almost sixteen, going to school, enjoying her parents, making friends, stressing over homework—ultimately growing older.

Astro was still thirteen.

She was slipping away, aging every day, yet he'd remain eternally young. He'd stay that way until the Blue Core ran out, which was when he'd die—and yet, the Blue Core had enough power to supply him for the next thousand years, even he only had half of what he'd given to Zog so long ago. The Blue Core's power was just that strong. In its original state, it would have lasted for thousands and thousands of millennia, Elefun had once told her. Maybe even longer.

Seeing him stay fixed at that one point in time had fully convinced Cora that Astro was, emotions or no, a robot. Maybe that was why she didn't see him as often as she used to, didn't hold quite as lively conversations with him, didn't go out of her way to find him on some building in the far corner of Metro City. It was a bit cruel, and when Astro finally saw what was happening when she hit fifteen, his hurt eyes had been in so much pain—

—but hey, just microchips.

He wasn't growing older. Undeniable proof he was just a robot.

Now? Cora wasn't so sure.

From what passing scientists had told her, it looked for all the world like a fever. According to them, he was sweating, he was burning up, he was rolling around on the bed, looking for cool spots on the sheets, he was unconscious half the time. He kept muttering things under his breath, things they couldn't hear.

Why was she sitting here? Here, outside the room Astro was in, as if hoping she could rack up enough nerve to go inside? At this point, she hardly qualified as a friend anymore. They met every month if they were lucky, just in passing to say "hi" or "howzit." She was…the ex-friend. The ex-friend who'd had a secret crush on a robot. The ex-friend who'd been a stupid little girl and how now grown up. She didn't love him anymore.

_Well, then_, said a nasal little voice in her head, _why're you sitting here?_

Cora didn't know. Her school backpack was slumped against the chair she sat in, posture equally slumped. She realized she was pouting, and quickly straightened. Hadn't she just told herself that she wasn't a stupid little lovesick girl anymore?

_Well, then_, the nasal voice began again, _why're you_—

Shut up, she told it. Just shut _up_.

It shut up, and she nodded absentmindedly in approval.

"—we can try, but honestly, he doesn't seem to want to cooperate. And…well…I think we both know what happens when Astro doesn't want to cooperate."

Cora's head shot up and her gaze snapped to her left. Coming down the corridor was Elefun and Tenma, Astro's father—but why Astro always called Tenma "father" escaped her. She'd never asked. All she knew was that Tenma had one day just decided he was going to make a robot with emotions and did it. Then named the robot Astro. And somehow the robot named Astro wound up on the Surface. Amazing, how little she knew about her friend—or, ex-friend.

"You have to," Tenma said urgently, grasping Elefun's ample shoulders with his slender fingers. "You _have_ to."

Elefun sighed. "I don't know about that."

"I will not lose my son again," Tenma hissed with ferocity Cora hadn't ever seen before.

There it was again— Tenma calling Astro his son and Astro calling Tenma his father. What on _Earth_? Strange creator-robot relationship.

And then Cora realized something even stranger. Tenma had just said he wouldn't lose his son, referencing to Astro, again. Had he lost Astro before? What? Was there more to Astro's backstory than she knew? Was it really more than Tenma creating Astro and then dumping him on the surface? Perhaps he was just talking about how he'd nearly lost Astro to the Peacekeeper.

"I don't know why either," Elefun said firmly, "but he doesn't want to be examined. At all."

Temna opened his mouth, then coughed into his shoulder. Elefun peered at Tenma. "Tenma? Are you alright?"

"I had a little fever last week," Tenma said, waving it off and returning to the matter at hand. "I don't care if Astro doesn't want to be examined. We'll restrain him. Tie him down if we have to. I _need_ to find the source of this."

"And how would you restrain a million horsepower?" Elefun said dryly. "You made him yourself."

Cora chose this moment to stand from her chair and interrupt softly: "Doctor Tenma? Doctor Elefun?"

Startled, they both turned towards her. "Cora!" Elefun exclaimed, holding his arms out warmly. "Nice to see you."

"I heard about it," Cora said, jerking a finger back at the hospital door. "A while ago."

"What did you hear?" Tenma asked, approaching her quickly.

"He's totally dead. Out of it. Unconscious." She made a face, hiding the little glimmer of fear and worry for him more out of denial than anything else. The best way to cover up emotions was with sarcasm and snappy retorts, Cora had learned on the surface, and the reflex once again kicked in. Anyone but Astro would never know what was really going on in her head. But then again, they weren't friends. Would he still know as he did back then? Tone casual, she remarked, "Never knew robots could get sick."

Elefun exchanged a dark look with Tenma. "They can't," Elefun said simply.

Oh.

"It's got to be a malfunction, then," Cora stated, confident. She put her hands on her hips—there's no 'tude like attitude—and flicked a strand of black hair out of her dark eyes. "A malfunction imitating the symptoms of a human illness."

"Well, yes," Tenma said, face drawn with worry. He seemed older, the lines in his face deeper, the shadows darker. "In principle, that is exactly it. But such a malfunction has never been seen before. This could be attributed to the fact that Astro is a unique robot"—he said this with a certain measure of desperation and pride—"but I…I'm not so sure."

"Sure of what?" Cora scoffed. "He's a robot. Got the dinky doodads in him somewhere that're acting up. You might not know what it is now, but you will if you investigate. Just pull a few screws and he's fine." That was what Cora desperately hoped would be the case, as much as she tried to tell herself otherwise—she was _not_ in love with a damn robot she hadn't held a proper conversation with in half a year.

"He's not letting us do that," Elefun interrupted.

Impatient, Cora rounded on him. "And why _not_?" Cora demanded.

"You go talk to him, then." Elefun pushed her towards the closed lab door, the room where Astro was in now. "If you don't believe us, see for yourself."

"H-Hey!" Cora tried to wriggle out of it, but Elefun grasped her wrist tightly. "Stop that! I'm not going in there! I _said_—"

That was when Elefun opened the door, firmly pushed her inside, and shut the door.

It wasn't like Elefun had locked the door, but Cora's stomach knotted a thousand times over—_I told you_, the voice in her head told her dryly—and she froze, somehow unable to leave the room. The room was dark, and combined with the wide area filled with scientific gadgets and pipes and whatnot and the vast ceiling, it all seemed so foreboding. But there was a small light shining in the middle of the room, which was where a bed was position. There was a lump in the sheets—Astro.

Cora gulped, then moved hesitantly towards the bed. She could make out the back of his head, complete with those trademark spikes that all of Metro City had affiliated with their "hero." His hair never mussed, yet more proof that he wasn't the human he appeared to be. She finally made it to the side of the bed, her heart pounding in her ribcage like a jackhammer, every step she took like she was wading through water.

"A…Astro?"

She almost hoped that he wasn't awake purely so she wouldn't have to face him, but her hopes were squashed when his head slowly turned to face her, his eyes closed. "Hello?" he whispered, and Cora shuddered. It didn't sound like Astro at all. Astro was up-beat, happy, optimistic. This voice sounded calm, cool, collected, mature and adult-like. And even—dare she say it?—borderline expressionless.

It sounded like a robot's voice.

And then Astro opened his eyes.

Cora gasped, backing away quickly and tripping over a cord she hadn't noticed, falling on her butt with an _oof_. Astro sat up, looking at her like she were some sort of specimen in a jar: with mild curiosity and interest, but no real emotion. This wasn't right. The Astro she knew had the softest eyes she'd ever seen, eyes she could see held honesty and warm in them.

Yet here, bright green eyes literally glowed in the dark, and everything about them was cold and artificial.

Astro didn't have green eyes.

It wasn't like his irises had changed color. It was like that X-ray vision he had, just a sickly green color instead of pale blue. They were like flashlights, and when Astro's eyes met hers, Cora was momentarily blinded and had to look away.

"Astro?" She staggered to her feet. "What's going on?"

There was no response.

"Astro, talk to me!"

No response.

"Look, I know I haven't talked to you in forever, but seriously—"

"Who are you?"

For the third time today, Cora's breath caught in her throat. She stared at those nasty green lights, and a sadistic, choked laugh escaped her. "Who _am_ I?" She sneered. "Who _am_ I? I'm—I'm—"

_The girl who denies she still loves you after two years?_ the voice laughed.

Shut up, she told it, and it did as told.

"I'm your friend, dickweed! I'm _worried_ for you! We used to be best friends! I come here to check if you're alright and"—Cora sucked in a breath—"you give me bullshit like _WHO ARE YOU_?"

Abruptly, the green lights shut off, and all that remained was the wide brown eyes Cora knew—had known, she reminded herself, had known so well. "Cora?" he exclaimed, as if seeing her for the first time. His eyes widened even further in that typically childlike shock expression he'd given her so many times. "Cora, I'm so sorry, I—"

"You just didn't recognize me," Cora finished scathingly. "Right." Before he could say anything else, she sprinted for the door.

"Wait!" he cried behind her, desperate. "You don't understa—"

She never did hear what she didn't understand, because she'd slammed the door behind her as hard as she could. Tenma and Elefun gave her confused looks, but she snatched her backpack and dashed away before they could ask, leaving the Ministry of Science as far away as she could.

He hadn't even _remembered_ who she was.

* * *

She went home and did her homework. Get over it, girly, she told herself. He's a damn robot. He has nothing to do with you anymore. You've grown apart. It's in the very physical workings of this whole thing. You'll grow older and he'll stay the same until he blows a circuit or something. Best to just separate yourself from him now.

_You don't believe that_, the voice in her head told her.

He didn't even remember who I was, she retorted.

_It wasn't him,_ the voice said. _It wasn't him talking_.

Don't give me that Yoda shit, she snapped back at it, breaking her electronic pencil on her touchpad. Just shut up.

It did, indeed, shut up, just like always.

She went to bed early.

* * *

_The world was hazy, and she was standing on a dock, the wind blowing on her face and through her clothes, refreshing her with its crisp scent. It was the scent of one of those nature parks in Metro City, the ones with the big fancy lakes for fishing. Beside her, sitting down, was a boy, fishing with a homemade fishing pole._

_"Hi," the boy said. He seemed around thirteen, but mature beyond his years. He acted like an adult, almost. He looked up at her, and she blinked, surprised to see Astro's face looking up at her. But this wasn't the first time she'd dreamt about him. Why should she be surprised? Maybe, she thought, because this Astro didn't seem like Astro at all. It was like..._

It wasn't him. It wasn't him talking.

_"Hi," she responded._

_"Astro didn't want to come," the boy who looked like Astro said, shrugging. "I don't even know if it's possible for him to come."_

_She didn't know how to respond to that, so she just stayed silent._

_"But I'm sorry," he said, voice in that same polite, expressionless tone he never seemed to stop using. "I messed up."_

_"It's okay," she replied, but she honestly had no clue what he was talking about._

_"Alright." He stood up. "Astro was just really cut up about it, you know? He really likes you." The boy who looked like Astro surveyed her with a critical eye, silently appraising her. "I suppose you are kind of pretty. I'm not him, but I can still see."_

_"Gee, thanks."_

_He grinned, but it wasn't the crookedly warm smile Astro gave her. It was a sly, calculating grin. "You're welcome." He pretended to check a watch, then announced, "I've got to go. In this memory, Orrin'll be serving dinner soon, and then I'll go to sleep. I'll wake up, do some calculus drills, watch a video in my AP class about robots, ace a pop quiz in all of one minute, and from there… well…" He smiled, stood up, and stretched. "The bottom line is I've got to go._

_"Looking forward to future business with you."

* * *

_

When Cora woke in the morning, she couldn't remember anything. All she could remember was that it really was, for some strange, inexplicable reason, not Astro's fault he hadn't recognized her.

* * *

A/N: So how's it coming? Good? Bad? What? I typed this up in an hour, didn't bother to edit, and slapped it up here. What do you guys think? Review, guys, and make me day.


	2. The Jolts

"Dad," Astro said softly.

"Yes, son?"

"What are you doing?"

Tenma looked to Elefun, but Elefun could only shrug. Tenma sighed. "Astro, perhaps if you opened your eyes, you could see."

Astro smiled like it was a joke, but his eyes stayed firmly shut. "It's okay. I think I'll keep them closed. Just in case." He hesitated, and Tenma wondered what he meant by just in case, then Astro broke his thoughts and said, "But really, what are you doing?"

"We're just…" Tenma didn't know what to say, and once again he turned to Elefun for help. "Just…"

"Running a test," Elefun supplied calmly. Seeing as Astro had his eyes closed for some reason, Tenma shot a confused glance at Elefun, who shrugged wildly. "We're just going to do a few things, Astro. Standard procedure. The first thing people usually do when robots are reacting funny."

Both scientists saw Astro stiffen. Tenma's fingers strangled themselves. They weren't running a test at all; what they were doing was strapping Astro to a huge metal plate with the strongest metal they could get their hands on. Like sticking him up on the cross to be crucified, so he couldn't move. Then they'd shock him into unconsciousness with a zapper—like the one that Hamegg had used. It killed Tenma to do it, but they had to. They needed to see what was going on under that synthetic skin of his.

From where he sat on the metal plate (which he couldn't see from his closed eyes), Astro wiped his forehead to clear the sweat beading there, and Tenma's eyes narrowed. Yes, it really did seem like a fever. "Just the jolts?" Astro asked, head moving curiously towards the direction of Elefun's voice.

"Just the jolts," Elefun said seriously, not missing a beat. "I don't think I need to ask you if you know what those are."

"I know," Astro said simply. Astro knew because Toby knew; Astro had never encountered the jolts in _his_ specific life, but since Toby had known of them, that information had been passed on when Astro was born. And Toby had known exactly what they were: the "jolts" were slight electronic pulses that would straighten out most minor malfunctions. If minor malfunctions were the typical cold a human could catch, then the jolts were the typical cough syrup a human could take.

With a nod from Elefun, Tenma took a deep breath and locked Astro's left hand into the cuff, securing his left arm to the metal plate. It was good that Astro was keeping his eyes closed; they'd anticipated him asking more questions than this, but since he seemed to want his eyes closed, it was a lot easier to keep him in line. Astro didn't seem to object to the cuff, but Tenma saw his eyes moving under his eyelids and his head twitch.

"Dad? I didn't know they used cuffs for jolts."

"You're a special robot, Astro," Tenma said, but his panic at the question showed on his face. Elefun nodded supportingly. "We…don't know how you might react to the jolts. So this is…a…a safety procedure."

"That's not it," Astro insisted, and his eyes finally snapped open. His wide, brown eyes seemed almost betrayed, and Tenma flinched. They were caught. "Dad, really. I don't want to be examined. Can you take this off?" He pointed up at the cuff Tenma had just secured, and he gave a small, imploring smile. "Please, Dad?"

"Son, we need to—"

Abruptly, the metal shrieked as Astro's wrist pulled right through it almost effortlessly, and both Elefun and Tenma cringed. The twisted remains of the cuff clattered to the floor, and Astro's gaze met Tenma's. "I…I'm sorry, Dad. But I really don't want to be investigated." He bowed his head guiltily.

"Astro!" Tenma cried, as angry as he was scared. "I'm doing this for your own good!"

Hurt showed on Astro's face as he pleaded, "I _know_, Dad. I'm really sorry; honest, I am!"

"What's going on?" Tenma demanded, anger rising. "You're acting funny, and it's not just the fev—malfunction."

Elefun set a hand on Tenma's shoulder. "Tenma," Elefun said softly, "perhaps we should—"

"No," he declared, knocking Elefun's hand away. "I want—no, _need_ to know what's going on!"

Astro's gaze slid downwards, half-shadows cast on his face from the dim lights of computers screens in the lab. "Dad…please. I'm sorry, I really am, but please…"

"I'm doing this because I care about you," Tenma said desperately, seizing Astro's shoulders. He knew he was close to snapping, but he didn't care. He wouldn't lose his son again. He couldn't. "You know I love you, Astro. You're my son. And you know that I couldn't bear to lose you."

Astro seemed faintly surprised, his brown eyes widening even further…before he looked away. He didn't say anything, but Tenma couldn't help but feel that this small action reflected something…more.

"A-Astro?" Tenma leaned forward, confused. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Astro whispered. With deliberate grace, he gently removed Tenma's hands from his shoulders and smiled brightly at Tenma. "Really, Dad. I'm fine. There's nothing wrong."

"Are you—"

"Tenma," Elefun said loudly, "stop. It would be best for all of us. We'll just leave and come back later."

Tenma searched Astro's eyes one more time, searching for something—anything. Looking for the key to all this. What was it? What was going on? What was Astro not telling them? But all he found in Astro's eyes was the same innocence he saw every time he looked.

Then Tenma was blinded with a powerful flash of green.

Tenma stumbled backwards, squinting and holding his eyes, momentarily blinded by the bright light. It was like getting a flashlight in the face—it messed with one's vision and set little lights off behind one's eyes. Elefun steadied Tenma so he didn't fall over, and after a minute of rubbing his eyes, Tenma blinked away the flashing lights in his retinas and saw…Astro laughing. He was doubled over, holding his stomach, having a giggling fit. Tenma almost thought he saw tears in the corner of Astro's eyes, which were once again closed.

"You looked so _serious_," Astro choked out between giggles. "I couldn't resist!"

Tenma sighed, but a smile crossed his lips despite himself. Elefun even chuckled. "He got you on that one, Tenma," he said under his breath.

Later, he'd wonder how Astro had been able to pull that trick on him without having green lights installed in his eye hardware.

* * *

Dad and Elefun left soon after, and Astro was grateful to be left alone—as alone as he could be nowadays—once again. That had been a close call. He slowly opened his eyes, watching the pool of green light on the dark floor widen as his eyes went from narrowed to fully open.

"If we didn't fight like this, the green light wouldn't happen," he sighed out loud, almost regretfully.

There was a pause.

"If you don't want us to fight, maybe you should just give up."

* * *

Cora didn't know why, but she found herself heading to the Ministry of Science. It was actually really late at night, and she shouldn't be doing this, since she had a term paper due next week. But nope, she hopped in the car and told her nannybot to head for the Ministry of Science.

When she got there, the doors were locked. That wasn't to say that the Ministry of Science was closed; it simply wasn't open to the general public at this time. There were still people milling around like crazy in there. But no matter. Astro had shown her a way to get in when they'd still been best friends.

_Don't you wish you still were_? a voice asked.

Ugh. She told it to shut up. That was always the charm. If she told it to shut its trap, it would.

She headed to the back of the Ministry of Science and found the same ladder he'd shown her years ago. She grasped the rusted handles and began to climb. It went all the way to the roof, where there was a door. However, that door was locked, too. But Cora knew better than to go there; Astro had told her that going up there would be a waste of energy. Halfway up, she stopped and eyed the the balcony to her right. It was the thirty-second floor balcony. She'd have to jump for it. If she got there, she could continue. If she didn't get there, the only thing that would break her fall would be the pavement.

She jumped anyway, and hit the railing with a loud _oof_! She scrabbled with her legs to find a grip, then finally managed to haul herself over. Man, she hadn't done this kind of stuff since she'd been on the Surface. Cora couldn't resist a fleeting victory grin before returning to the task at hand. The special window with the loose frame Astro had pointed out was one over, just a meter away. Moving away from the ladder, which was on her left, she moved more across the building to the right. She balanced herself on the edge of the railing and leapt for the window sill, landing on her feet. She wobbled. Shoot. She was rusty.

No matter. She was there.

Working the window loose like he'd taught her, Cora slipped inside and replaced the window easily. Now on the thirty-second floor, she needed to get down to the eighth floor, which was where Astro's room was. She went straight down the hallway for the nearest stairs, knowing nobody would be on the stairs. People still kept stairs around in case there was a fire or a malfunction or _something_, but no one ever really used it for any other purpose. So she was free to trek down twenty-four floors with no interruptions. Only she didn't trek—she slid down on the railings, whooping for all she was worth since no one could hear her in the stairwell anyway, getting a kick out of this entire thing. For the first time in years, she missed the Surface in all its adventurous glory.

By the time she opened the door to the eighth floor and looked at the random scientists walking about, her old reflexes had kicked in, and she waited for the passageway to clear before sprinting down the hallway. Ducking behind corners and through doors and into bathrooms and whatever she could find for cover, she made her way through the maze of cold metal corridors towards Astro's room…

When she saw Astro himself disappear into an adjacent corridor.

She also saw green light.

Cora followed silently.

Astro seemed to be using the same tactics she was, but it wasn't really working, since that freakish light from his eyes made it hard to conceal himself. He managed, though. All things considered, he was pretty good at it, despite nearly getting caught three times. Cora's eyes softened as she watched his puppy-like reactions to the close calls, savoring the familiar feel to it. The last time that green light had shown up, things had gotten…well…

But this time, there was all the familiar Astro-ness about his expressions, movements, even his walk. It made Cora smile.

Still trailing Astro from afar, Cora realized they'd come full circle and now she was watching Astro slip through the door that led to the stairs. Taking a deep breath, she hid from a passing scientist and as soon as he passed, dove for the stairwell, making sure he didn't hear her.

He was going down, apparently. He didn't slide down the railings, like Cora had done. He didn't even use those nifty rocket-things. She could see him, as well as hear the tapping sound of his boots echoing upwards, as he walked down like an everyday normal person. Only normal people didn't have two green spotlights marking wherever their gaze happened to be. She could see the green lights, uncannily strong even in the light from the stairwell's fluorescent lightingl, darting all over the walls, as if nervous. Now that she looked at him, he did seem a bit nervous. But that was just Astro being Astro. She'd be more worried if he _wasn't_ nervous.

She made every effort to stay absolutely silent, placing each step carefully, the balls of her feet touching the next step down first and then letting her heels meet the ground as slowly as she could while tailing him, resulting in only the smallest sound. Cora didn't even breathe for half the time. As she tried her best to stay silent and tail Astro, who was moving rather quickly, she marked each floor as they went down. Go down a flight of stairs, hit a landing, turn, go down another; one floor down. Repeat. She could lean over the railing and see all the stairs below her, as well as Astro's head a few flights down.

She was doing just that—looking over the railing—when Astro stopped. The green lights, the markers of where he was looking, stilled on the wall, then slowly began to travel upwards. With a small gasp, Cora realized she must have tipped him off somehow and ducked back behind the railing, heart pounding. Why? She wasn't doing anything wrong. But something told her that all this mysteriousness was for a reason, and if she was caught now, she'd never get to the bottom of this.

"Did you…hear something?"

Cora listened hard, not because she couldn't hear him clearly—the echo effect in the stairwell took care of volume—but because Cora had only seen Astro down there. Unless there had been someone hiding, he couldn't be talking to anyone else, and Cora _knew_ there couldn't be someone else hiding down there because he'd entered the stairwell alone. Was he talking to himself? But he'd addressed himself as "you." That didn't make any sense. Or maybe it did. Didn't people talk to themselves and say phrases like, "You idiot"? Was she overthinking this?

"It was your imagination," a voice replied. It sounded a lot like the very antithesis of Astro—confident, mature, sharp, even a little cocky.

But it was still undeniably Astro's voice.

"Maybe," Cora heard Astro sigh in response and he half-chuckled, and Cora's eyes narrowed as she listened. This time, there wasn't that funny tone. It was just good old Astro talking that time. She could _hear_ his embarrassed smile in his voice. And that just made it all the more strange. He was talking to himself, yes, but the obviously different tones he used were beginning to freak Cora out.

Sounds of Astro's steps floated upwards again, and Cora dared to peek over the railing again. Once again he was moving downwards, and Cora followed, a little numbly. Her brain was starting to hurt. It sounded like he was having a conversation with himself. There wasn't anything particularly bad about that in itself. Cora sometimes had conversations with herself—

_Hiya!_ the voice laughed.

—so it wasn't like she could really say that this was totally out of the ordinary. But those conversations weren't like these. This was like there were really two people talking here—one being innocent Astro, and the other being the…the…the other thing.

Cora soon realized that they were heading way below the ground. They'd actually passed the ground floor a while ago. Cora saw a sign as she passed another landing: B6. They were six floors below ground level already.

The stairs ended abruptly on B9, at which was a door. Astro had already gone inside, so Cora just went with it and slipped inside as well, hoping he wouldn't notice her going in. What she saw on the other side was a dimly-lit lab—but it was absolutely _huge_. It was bigger than any lab she'd ever seen. The ceiling was so tall Cora nearly broke her neck looking at it. There was a vast computer to one side, another doorway to the left, pipes and wires snaking across the room, and all sorts of gizmos and whatchisms everywhere. But most noticeably there was a platform of sorts, kind of resembling a bed, with multiple metal tentacle-like wires hanging from the ceiling above it.

Oh, and there was also Astro, who was hurriedly fiddling with a computer, which probably had something to do with the glass barrier slowly lowering itself from the ceiling between Cora's half of the room and his half. He was clearly trying to cut her off. Can't forget _that_.

"Hey!" Cora gasped and sprinted for Astro's side, trying to make it under the barrier before it touched ground, not really knowing why. Doubts seemed to follow her like a trail of fog around her head. Why was she down here? Why had she followed him? Why was she running? Why did she think she could somehow get under that glass barrier coming down? Why was he doing this? Why did she care? Why was she even asking these questions?

As the wall hit the floor and Cora smacked her palm against the glass in anger, Astro looked her right in the eye, the green lights blinding her for a split second…before they shut off abruptly. Cora blinked rapidly, trying to adjust her eyes to the quick light changes. Astro sort of laughed to himself, head ducked to he didn't face her, yet the laugh came out more like a grimace. Seeming almost apologetic, he glanced towards her and then away, his face worried, and he mumbled something, but she couldn't hear him through the glass. He waited, then sighed and scratched his head.

Turning towards her, he said loudly, "Cora, I'm really sorry. I…I didn't want you to come down here."

Without that freakish green light shining in her face, Cora could clearly see his sincere expression. She believed him, truth be told. Seeing his earnest eyes made _not_ believing him hard.

"Go back. Please," he pleaded. "You shouldn't be down here."

"Neither should you!" Cora half-yelled, half-snapped at the glass.

Astro grinned that cheeky smile of his, shrugging a little sheepishly. Quickly, as if to escape further guilt, he tapped a few more buttons, and the glass darkened with tint until it was nothing more than a black wall and she couldn't see squat through it. He smiled one more time and even gave a small wave as all vision faded. She angrily pounded her fist against the glass, but to no avail.

"Astro!" she cried. "Astro, what's going on?"

* * *

He could feel the fear. It wasn't _his_ fear of the glass barrier, but he felt it just the same. The war for dominance screeched to a halt, the opposing side quailing at the traumatizing and nostalgic sight of the glass, and as the opposition retreated, the green lights died. Instead, what replaced the pressing force of the opposition was a thick cloud of pure fear. Terror born of trauma.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean… The glass…" Astro glanced helplessly at the glass wall in front of him, feeling rotten. The fact that Cora was pressing her hands against the glass didn't help; it was uncannily similar to what Dad had done. "Stop. Please!" he whispered.

Trauma was winning. The opposition was absolutely quivering in fear, huddled in a dark corner of his (or their?) mind(s?).

"The Peacekeeper is gone," he muttered quietly, but it still did no good. The fear that emanated from the opposition flooded through every fiber, every data processor, every wire of Astro's body. It seeped around everything Astro did to block it, like some sort of sick blood. Astro bit his lip and decided he would have to ignore this. It was his own fault for accidentally leading Cora down here—not that he'd ever in a million years suspect she'd follow him after yesterday—and being forced to use the barrier.

He took a deep breath and said loudly, "Cora, I'm really sorry. I…I didn't want you to come down here."

Cora's eyes met his, and she stopped trying to break down the barrier with her bare hands. He thought he saw her expression soften, but it was only for a second. It just made him want her _not_ here even more.

"Go back. Please," he pleaded. "You shouldn't be down here."

"Neither should you!" came Cora's muffled retort.

Astro grinned and shrugged. That was true. What he was doing wasn't exactly playing by the rules. Before anything else could occur, Astro concluded that yes, she'd never go at this rate. The least he could do would be to make sure she didn't see anything she shouldn't. He selected a menu, then a submenu, and finally the option "Tint". He slid the meter all the way to "100%". Cora's shocked face fading to black was the last thing he saw through the glass.

Now that it didn't seem like glass—it looked a lot more like a typical black wall than anything—the onslaught of fear slowed and finally ceased, making Astro smile. He was still shaken badly, Astro could feel, but it didn't shut down his thought process like before. Astro smiled a little self-mockingly; he'd just caused more problems for himself just to ease someone else's pain.

"Astro!" Cora's voice shrieked. It might have been darkened, but it wasn't sound-proof. Yet. "Astro, what's going on?"

Nothing, Astro thought. Really, Cora. I'm fine. There's nothing wrong.

Astro apprehensively turned back to computer he stood in front of, flipping on the sound-proof option. He made sure it went both ways, so she wouldn't be able to hear anything on this side, either. Then he eyed the nearby bed with the hanging tentacles with a touch of nostalgia. This was the place were "Astro" had been born from what had been left. His first memories as, well, Astro had taken place here. However, while it was nostalgic for Dad and himself, the amount of modifications this room had undergone because of Dad's hellbent mission made it almost unusable for anything other than giving whatever was plugged up to those tentacles a shock.

A _big_ shock.

That was what Astro was counting on.

_Are you absolutely sure this is safe?_

His voice seemed shaken, but what could Astro expect? After seeing something that brought too many painful memories, it was only natural.

"Positive…ly not," Astro breathed back, flipping open another menu to select the screen: "Voltage Control".

_Exactly my point, robot. You should think this through. What are you trying to accomplish?_

Of course, always the responsible voice of reason, despite getting the fright of his life, Astro thought idly.

_Fright of my—?_

Astro froze, finger still stuck on the computer screen, and fully realized exactly what he'd thought. Astro gasped out loud and cried, "N-No! I'm so sorry! I-I didn't m-mean that! I-I-It was a figure of speech, I s-swear!" He waved his hands, gesticulating wildly. It felt odd to be talking out loud to someone he couldn't physically see, so he ended up turning in circles as he apologized. "I didn't mean to—"

_I get it. No…no harm done. It was an accident, after all._

Are you sure? Astro asked.

_Repetition is for scrapped robots._

Despite the voice seeming rather unsure that time, Astro breathed a sigh of relief. Even with all that was going on, it still tore at Astro to accidentally hurt another's feelings.

_That aside, you should _really_ think this through. I'm not joking. You and I are in the same boat._

Quickly bouncing back from the scare, Astro shook himself out and refocused on the task at hand. He carefully moved the pointer on-screen to three hundred million volts. "Thinking things through is what you do, right?" Astro smiled crookedly. "I mean, seriously? Thinking things through is_ not_ something I do…like, ever.

"I noticed," Astro's mouth said dryly as the green lights flickered on, bathing the computer monitor in front of him—_them_—with a mass of green. Even trauma and misplaced insults couldn't hold him back from trying over and over and over, Astro thought with a sigh. Astro had to admire his tenacity.

"And I admire your own willpower," Astro's mouth shot back. "What I _don't_ admire is your stupidity. Do you even know what your limits here are? Maybe what the volt capacity for your circuits are?"

He flicked the power switch to "on," frowning slightly. "Mmm…well…" Astro paused and scratched the back of his neck, lips curling slightly—but even as he did, he found with alarm that movements didn't come easily. The opposition was already trying to sabotage every movement he made. But that wasn't something all that surprising. It was a bit of a tacit rule that neither would mention it when they took shots at each other. "Honestly? No, not really," Astro admitted. "I'm pretty much wingin' this thing. But hey, more fun this way, right?"

Astro's nose snorted on its own accord, and his neck tried to shake his head by itself, but Astro quickly forced it in the other direction, winding up at a sort of equilibrium. The opposition relented and before Astro could stop it, rolled Astro's eyes for him.

Before they could go into a full-blown sabotage war, Astro carefully moved to the bed and hopped up on it, grabbing the tentacles and attaching each to random parts of his body. The last and first time had been his creation, in this very room, and he'd be lying if he said he could remember the actual procedure. Astro slowly laid himself down on the cool metal surface and stared up at the machine above, the green lights carving deep shadows into the crevices of the great machine. Yes, he hadn't thought this one through. But he was tired of thoughts. He wanted this to be simple. He wanted all these new concepts to go away. For the tantalizing questions to go away. The horrible dilemma to go away. The nagging truths to go away. The doubts to go away. He wanted it all to go away.

"That sounds really depressing, you know that?" Astro's mouth told him. "I never knew a robot could be suicidal. This could be a good research topic."

I never said I wanted to die, Astro mentally replied, stung. He wanted to live. But _without_ all these things in his head.

_I'm honored to be referred to as "these things." A little touchy today, are you?_

"'m sorry," Astro mumbled again. "L-Let's just get this over with, shall we?

"I suppose," his mouth replied tartly.

Astro nodded, and he squeezed his hand a little tighter, but making sure not to break what he held. Within Astro's hand was a small, wafer-thin remote control, the key to his plan. There were only two buttons: start and stop. With this, he'd subject himself to the jolts—but in his own style.

In his three hundred million volts style.


	3. The Flicker

Tenma broke the tip of his electronic stylus, but didn't even see or care, for that matter. He was busy staring at his lamp.

"Are you finding something particularly intriguing about your lamp?" Elefun asked dryly, lacing his fingers together and leaning back in Tenma's office couch.

Slowly, Tenma shook his head. "Well, no, not really…but the light from my desk lamp flickered for a second. Did you see that?"

"No." Elefun shrugged. "We may be on Metro City, but lamps sometimes still flicker. The low-grade ones."

"Exactly." Tenma tossed his wasted stylus into the wastebasket without looking (Astro would definitely say something like "Score, dad!" here, and Tenma felt his mood worsen at the involuntary thought), jabbed an accusatory finger at the desk lamp, and said, "I don't mean to brag, but do you really think the Minister of Science would have a low-grade lamp in his office?"

Elefun opened his mouth, paused, closed his mouth, paused, opened his mouth and lifted his finger, paused, then closed it again.

"Strange, isn't it?" Tenma whispered.

—

Cora started screaming, but didn't even hear or care, for that matter. She was busy staring at the lights.

With a sickening rumble, the lights flashed on and off, on and off, some even shooting sparks. Monitors went haywire and flashed through every random display under the sun before fizzing and going into static. Wires trembled so fast they looked like they were vibrating, several snapping and dancing like fish out of water. Cora fell to her knees, but it wasn't really her fault—the ground was starting to shake.

It was no use pounding on the black wall any longer. Cora did the one and only thing she could do: run for help.

––

"Not that strange," Elefun said. "Your lamp might be getting old. It usually starts to get old after fifty years or so. How long have you had it for?"

"I bought this two weeks ago."

"…At a pawn shop?" said Elefun, still trying to convince Tenma and perhaps himself that this wasn't out of the ordinary.

"No. At a perfectly normal store," Tenma snapped. "What's strange is that when I got back to work after Astro's birth, several people reported lights flickering like this." He remembered almost word for word what they'd said: _I've never seen lights flicker like that. You didn't happen to be doing some crazy experiment again, did you, Tenma?_

"Well—"

Elefun never got out what desperate excuse he'd concocted that time, because just then the lamp flickered again—but with it, every other lamp, chandelier, wall light, and even TVs in the office with it. "There!" Tenma cried, leaping from his chair and pointing wildly. "You can't have not seen that!"

"Dr. Tenma, sir?" Tenma's secretary's head appeared from behind the door. "Um…"

"Yes, the lights, I know," Tenma said quickly, excitement rising.

"Not that," the secretary said, fidgeting nervously. "It's your…er…_son_." She said the word delicately; Astro may have been the tacitly appointed savior of Metro City, but that didn't mean everyone was comfortable with Tenma referring to Astro as his son. Tenma made sure to keep that tidbit low-key, and the fact that Astro had been created in Toby's image _absolutely_ mute. Only Elefun, Tenma, and Astro knew…unless one counted Stone, but nothing that came out of his mouth would be considered credible.

"What about him?" Eyes narrowing, Tenma stepped out from behind his desk, exchanging a wary glance with Elefun.

"It's just…" The secretary glanced away, clutching her clipboard nervously. "He's…kind of…disappeared…"

As Tenma let it sink in, then dashed numbly out the door, nearly knocking over his secretary, he could only hear a faint echo in his head:

_You didn't happen to be doing some crazy experiment again, did you, Dr. Tenma?_

—

Cora smashed the elevator button in with her fist, but when the elevator didn't come in the first two seconds, she sprinted for the stairwell and took the stairs three at a time. She was breathing hard by the time she got up two floors, but she refused to let up. The tip of her toe caught the edge of a stair, and her face connected with the metal stairs before she had time to even throw her hands up, but all she could do was push her hair out of her eyes and keep pedaling her legs. She was moving up the stairs again before she was even fully upright.

All she needed was to get to the first floor, where she could get someone's help. B5, B4, B3… She was on B2 when a slight tremor shook the metal stairs and the stairwell lights flickered, causing Cora to nearly trip again as she halted, grasping the railing like it was a lifeline and panting. What was Astro doing? Was he crazy? Why wouldn't he tell her?

"What on Earth—"

Cora's head snapped upwards, and she peered over the railing to see who else was on the stairwell. Her heart still going a million miles and hour, Cora called, "Hello?"

Two heads poked over the railing, still at least thirty floors from where Cora was. "Who's there?"

Even with her ragged breath, Cora's face split into a relieved smile. "D-Dr. Tenma!" she yelled, but her voice cracked and shot up several octaves, resulting in a sort of frayed scream. "It's me, Cora!" She almost laughed, she was so scared and panicked. The worst part was the hysterical desperation so evident from just those five words.

––

When they met halfway, Tenma seized her shoulders and demanded, "Where's Astro?"

Cora gulped for air and gesticulated, hair pressed flat against her pale, sweaty face. "D-Down there! Floor B8! He's doing something weird—"

Tenma didn't wait for her and flew down the stairs, jumping down six instead of going step by step. Astro had actually taught Tenma this, and Tenma had actually enjoyed the childish sport, much to his chagrin. Toby would never have done something like that, Tenma thought as he ran, and his payment for the errant thoughts was a slight, yet heart-stopping, stumble. If he fell going down stairs at this speed, he could break his neck, something Astro never had to worry about.

Skidding to a stop inside the room—the same one he'd created Astro in, Tenma realized—he assessed the situation: the emergency barrier was intact and blocking Tenma from Astro, who was assumed to be on the other side of the room, with 100% tint, probably 100% soundproofing as well. The monitors on this side of the room were going completely crazy, unable to handle the flow of energy. Without functional computers, Tenma wouldn't be able to override the control keeping the barrier in place. He needed those computers working—_now_.

"T…Tenma!" Elefun staggered into the room, bent over and looking like he was going to faint. He wasn't the most athletic person. "Wha…?"

"Help me!" Tenma ordered, seizing wires from the computers and ripping them away. It wasn't hard; the overdose of electricity was making them extremely fragile, even if scalding hot. Regardless, he had to minimize the amount of electricity flowing into the computers, switch the energy source to a generator, separate from the main source, which was unreliable at the moment. "Get an emergency generator ready!"

Huffing, Elefun shook his head to clear it and went for a storage room off to the side as Tenma continued to yank the cords, knowing he'd have at least second-degree burn after this. But he needed to, had to—his son was in danger. After his wife died, Toby had been all he'd had left, only for him to die. He'd been given another son, nearly lost him to his own blindness, found him, and then nearly lost him to the Peacekeeper. There was no way—absolutely _no way_—he'd ever let go of his son again.

Suddenly the rumbling stopped, the computers blanked and returned to normal, and the lights stopped flickering. Tenma froze, eyes fixed on the glass, and finally straightened, rubbing his charred hands together. "A-Astro?" he called, almost fearfully. "Astro, are you…are you there?"

Elefun's head reappeared from behind the storage room door. "…What just happened?" he asked, casting a wary eye at the black wall of glass. Tenma shrugged, clueless. Straightening his white lab coat, Tenma watched the black wall, waiting for some sort of sign, then ceded he could wait no longer and started towards it.

And then everything erupted.

—

Cora told every scientist she could what was happening, but nobody listened. What they did do was call security without even listening to her story. The fact that she wasn't supposed to be in there didn't help at all. She was escorted out of the building, but it wasn't really escorting, since it was more like she was dragged. She didn't go willingly, of course. She yelled over her shoulder, "You'll see! I'm telling the truth! You'll see, and you'll be sorry!" Despite her efforts, she was handed off to her nannybot, who'd been waiting outside all this time, and her nannybot took her right home. Going home resulted in a fierce argument between Cora and her parents, but when they asked for an explanation, Cora couldn't—wouldn't—tell.

Her parents ended up sending her to her room. How horrible was that? Astro was doing some sort of crazy, suicidal thing in the basement of the Ministry of Science she knew nothing about, and here she was, restricted to her house. Her parents had cut down the tree that had been by her window while she was on the Surface, so now she couldn't even escape.

But she could hear the TV.

Instead of taking a bath like her parents had told her, she hung her head out the window, straining her ears for something of the news. But her mother was busy watching those soap operas and her father wasn't watching TV at the moment. She'd have to rely on her father's habit of watching the ten-o-clock news to pull through for her.

At exactly ten, she slipped down the stairs, hiding by the foot of the stairs to peer around into the TV room. Sure enough, her father had stolen the remote and had flipped to channel three. If anything noticeable had happened, it would probably be on the news right now.

"…start the program off with news smash hit video game that hit stores today, titled 'Astro Boy.' I wonder what that's about, eh?" the second newscaster, a female, giggled.

Jaw slack, Cora stared at the two news announcers, shock replacing the dread sitting her stomach. They made a _video game_ about him?

_Don't you wish you'd hooked up with him now?_ the voice laughed.

"Speaking of Astro, he still hasn't been seen for a while, eh, James?" the female newscaster laughed. "He's just seemed to have dropped off the face of the world."

"Absolutely correct, Jessie." The other newscaster grinned, eyes glancing to someone off-screen."But there has been a strange incident that occurred earlier tonight, and many are beginning to speculate it may have something to do with our vanished wonderboy. Our cameras have live footage. Take it away, Ash."

The screen switched to the B8 floor of the Ministry of Science, and the only thing that Cora could register was two words: Holy _shit_.

It looked like somebody had set off a nuke inside. Demolished was an understatement. Wires were obliterated, metal innards frayed with melted rubber pooling around it, glass screens nothing more than glittering sand, twisted shrapnel embedded in the charred walls, the ominous black glass that had separated Cora and Astro just hours before in monstrously thick shards that littered the cracked, fizzing floor like leaves.

So focused was she on the images, Cora only caught the commentator say, "…mysterious damage from an unknown malfunction. It has been restrained to a single laboratory, which has not been used in months, Dr. Tenma claims. He gave no word as to cause, and when asked of Astro, his creation, he refused to comment. Tenma himself suffered damage, but none are life-threatening."

"What are you doing?"

Cora gasped and whirled around, finding her nannybot, N3vva, in her face and not looking all that pleased. "Um…" Cora's eyes darted to the left, remembering how easy making excuses had been back on the Surface, where she'd been in practice. "…Getting a glass of water?" Cora said lamely, and wanted to kick herself.

"Bed," N3vva commanded. "Before I tell _them_." The nannybot's fluorescent-light eyes flashed towards Cora's oblivious parents meaningfully. And Cora knew that N3vva really would peach on her, but only because N3vva cared. Of course, it didn't mean Cora had to appreciate the harsher part of N3vva's love.

"Alright, alright, don't get your bolts screwed on too tight," Cora muttered as she slipped back up the stairs. "What crawled into her circuits and died?"

_Sitting at a dinner table, Cora blinked and stared at the empty plate in front of her. "Sorry about that," the boy beside her said, waving a fork in her direction. "I can't change _that_ much. I'd love to give you food too, but technically there was no food on that plate in the original memory, so…yeah." With a shrug, he turned back to his own food._

_"…What?" asked Cora, oh-so eloquently. She studied the kid beside her, shocked to find his face so similar to Astro's—and suddenly her last dream like this came back to her. Why hadn't she remembered? Why had she remembered now? What was going on?_

_"But it doesn't matter," the boy-who-looked-like-Astro-but-wasn't said. "You're here! This is quite a change in pace for meals."_

_Suddenly, Cora realized she was sitting at a dinner table obviously designed for six, even eight, yet only she and the boy sat here. "You know, usually I eat alone," the not-Astro told her casually. "It's not like the doctor eats with me. He's always busy." He placed a piece of broccoli in his mouth. The way he put it in his mouth—with a sense of refined stiffness—reminded Cora that this boy was not Astro, not in the slightest. Hell, the sheer fact he'd eaten _broccoli_ was enough to remind her. Astro, so immaturely, hated broccoli. (Not that he ate to begin with. He'd simply never failed to tell her how much he hated broccoli whenever he caught _her_ eating it.)_

_"So that was quite interesting, wasn't it?" Non-Astro waved his fork and smiled, but it was a calculating remake of the open grin Astro used to give her. "The tremors, the fizzing, the malfunctions? We may have caused some damage to the B8 floor."_

_"May have?" Cora scoffed. "You might have freaking _destroyed_ it!"_

_"Yeah, maybe," Non-Astro replied casually. "But all for the sake of settling a few…disputes." He looked her in the eye and smiled again, but Cora was really beginning to hate his smile. It seemed too mature, too guarded. Definitely not the carefree Astro smile. "I'll ask you on both my behalf and my Other's behalf to stay out of this."_

_Cora was inching further and further away from Non-Astro in her seat. Even the way he sat, with his shoulders always tense and any casual movement on his part feeling a bit too practiced to be natural, was beginning to scare her. If Non-Astro noticed, he didn't comment on it. She asked, "Stay out of what?"_

_"Young master, would you like more water?" Before Non-Astro could reply, a robutler wheeled into the room, holding a pitcher of water. His design was the 7.8 model, commonly nicknamed the "hunchback" model. They were a timid model, that one._

_"Oh—no, thanks." Non-Astro gave a cocky, yet mockingly condescending, smile, and the robutler backed away respectfully, bowing his head and retreating to a nearby hallway._

_"Hey…you told me you were alone when you eat. You're not alone," Cora whispered, watching the robutler vanish behind the corner. "You have him. He's your friend, right?"_

_Non-Astro abruptly sat up straight, like he'd been given an electric shock, and his head snapped around to give her a strange look. From his expression, you'd think she'd just said she ate puppies for breakfast._

_"What?" Honestly confused for a moment, she looked blankly at him before realizing what he meant. Cora snapped, "It's not a bad thing to be friends with robots!"_

_Non-Astro's cast her an even stranger look, as if she'd just said she ate puppies for breakfast with a side helping of little childrens' eyeballs._

_"I'm friends with a robot," Cora declared indignantly._

_"Oh?" Rather slyly, Non-Astro smirked and asked, "Who?"_

_She tried to say Astro, but what came out instead was, "N3vva, my nannybot. She does exactly what your robutler does, and I'm great friends with her."_

_"Are you?" Non-Astro seemed mildly disgusted, happy, and interested at the same time. "But it's just a robot. The doctor always told me to just let the robot do its thing whenever I bugged it when I was small and uneducated in the norm for interactions with robots. Besides, relationships are not what robots are for. Robots are for use, for their designated purpose." Non-Astro chewed his fork, teeth clacking against the metal. "Not for friendship."_

_Insulted, Cora raised her voice and protested, "N3vva is a good friend of mine! She was always there for me when other friends weren't! When…when my parents weren't! She's always been there, looking out for me!"_

_"But then you went to the Surface," Non-Astro pointed out, putting another piece of broccoli in his mouth in that increasingly annoying anti-Astro way. "And where was she then?"_

_"She would have been there for me if she could have," Cora retorted hotly._

_"Only because of her programming. Her programming would not have allowed her to leave you unattended," Non-Astro replied readily. "In short, robots are incapable of the wonders humans are." Non-Astro smiled, but it was the same condescending smile he'd given the butler robot. Irritation sparked in Cora, embers just waiting for the right gust of wind to blow it into full bloom. The gust came not three seconds later._

_"It's just a robot."_

_Cora shot up, knocking her chair over. She could hardly bear to see his face, the little face-stealer, it made her so sick to her stomach. Growling, Cora shouted, "What—who _are_ you?" _

_"Me," Non-Astro said, as calm as ever._

_"No, you're a heartless little bastard with Astro's face!" Cora hissed, seething with rage that this horrendous person would dare use Astro's face._

_"I disagree," Non-Astro replied, more expressionlessly than calmly. Eyes fixed downwards, Non-Astro set his fork down on the tabletop with carefully measured force, as if he didn't set it down so delicately, he'd fling it in anger._

_"_Astro_ is the heartless little bastard with _my_ face—and I intend to get it back."_


	4. The Secrets

Press was hard to avoid, Tenma thought crossly. Especially for someone like him. He'd had to register his medical files under an alias of Nicholas Coppola to avoid this getting into the hands of anyone who'd spread the word. He already had multiple news reporters hounding after some tidbit of information. Some wanted to know the extent of his injuries. He'd told them it was minor. Some wanted to know the cause. He'd lied. Some wanted to know where the absent Astro was. Tenma gave no comment.

Of course, he'd had to tell Elefun his answers, who'd told the press for him. Tenma was in no shape to face the press himself, unless he wanted to throw even more meat to the wolves.

One reporter had asked a question that really made Tenma's blood run cold. He'd asked where Tenma's son Toby was, and why Astro, Tenma's robotic creation, looked so similar to Toby. This question had been asked before, and no one had ever really taken this question seriously, but Tenma's heart always sped up when it was asked. Because according to the world, Toby was not dead.

In the end, though, he really wondered how long he could keep his secrets.

* * *

Somehow, Cora didn't think she should have the right to be going to school like any other girl after what happened last night. With all that panic, all the mysteriousness and intrigue and danger and that damn robot, it felt just…unnatural.

Life moved on. Life continued to flow at its normal pace, people still going around on their daily routines and dogs barking and gardenbots watering their plants and other robots regulating traffic and cars honking. It was all so normal, and it felt like a sort of crime. Cora had had this feeling once before—when she'd left the other orphans and rejoined her family to resume her Metro City life. Everything went back to normal, as if nothing had ever happened, leaving the her to question if it had even happened, if Hamegg, Zog, Zane, Widget, and Sludge had even existed.

Walking out of her last class at three, she kept her head down and moved as quickly as she could to N3vva, who was waiting by the car to take her home from school. Her thoughts were everywhere but where she was going, thinking of Astro and the freakish non-Astro and the previous night and the light—that sickly green light that Cora's mind told her was a harmless malfunction and her heart told her was everything but. And the voice in her head wouldn't shut up, laughing about how she was becoming so obsessed with the boy she'd convinced herself was just a hunk of microchips, and she almost didn't want it to shut up, because what if it was right?

"Oof!"

Silicon data tablets bounced on the pavement and Cora's head snapped up to see a middle-aged man with a white, bushy mustache. She remembered his face from around the campsite and knew he was a teacher, but never bothered to know his name or what he taught. Glancing down at the tablets he'd dropped, she saw several electronic data papers displaying advanced maths that Cora had never even seen before, a data table that looked like a grade sheet, and another list with large, clearly visible print on it. The words, "Class Roster" was visible on that one, with the words "Teacher: Higeoyaji" in typed print and the words "Mustachio" below the "Higeoyaji," looking like it had been scribbled on with an electronic stylus.

Surprisingly, when the papers fell, the teacher let out a loud "Dammit!" and dropped to his knees, picking up his fallen tablets. Cora raised her eyebrows, amused at the language. "So rude," he muttered, "so rude these kids are nowadays…"

Oh, Cora thought irritably, he's talking about me. "Well, _gee_," Cora shot back. "I was _going_ to say sorry, but I make it a policy to not associate myself with asshats."

"Thank you for proving my point," the teacher growled.

"Look, don't get your panties in a twist." Cora bent down and picked up the Class Roster tablet, holding it out for him to take. "Here. It's not like they're broken."

But the second the teacher's fingers clasped over the tablet, she looked down at the Class Roster again and saw twenty or so little faces of children around twelve or thirteen, but of all faces she happened to see, her eyes happened to land at one near the bottom. And her eyes told her who it was, but her brain told her that it wasn't possible.

The teacher tugged, but Cora's fingers had locked on the tablet and wasn't letting go anytime soon. "Hey," the teacher said, irritable. "Let go!"

Eyes narrowed, Cora said slowly, "That… That student…"

The tablet was ripped from her grip, however, and the teacher stuffed it back into his arms and out of sight. "Gotta go," he sniffed, and waddled away.

"H-Hey—!" Cora yelled after him. "Don't you walk away from me! I—"

A shrill beeping noise interrupted her, and Cora spun around to see N3vva waving from the car, still quite a ways off, slightly impatient. One of her plasma-display eyebrows lifted, and Cora remembered what was waiting at home. If she didn't get home now, her parents would be even more ticked at her than they already were. They'd probably grill her, too. The face she'd seen on the class roster slipping her mind, she yelled, "Alright, alright, I'm coming!" and hurried to the car.

Coincidence, she told herself. Coincidence and an overreactive imagination.

* * *

When she got home at the end of the day, her parents still acted a bit too stiff to be completely over Cora slipping out of the house yesterday, but she didn't mind. She simply holed herself up in her room and busted out the homework, ready to lose herself in it and its criminal normalness.

"Master Cora?"

"It's Cora, N3vva," she replied without looking up from her math. "Just Cora."

"Cora, then," N3vva said slowly, "I was wondering…"

"Why do you want to know?" Her voice was a bit more curt than she'd intended.

N3vva stood thoughtfully in the doorway, and if she had lips, N3vva probably would be biting it. "I was wondering…"

…_What you were doing at the Ministry of Science._

"_Yes,_ N3vva?"

Picking up that this was unwanted territory—and not just the normal "piss off, I'm an angsty teenager" kind, the serious kind—N3vva smiled ruefully. Cora watched N3vva back away, holding out her hands in defeat.

"So I was wondering if you'd like some orange juice."

"…Yeah. that'd be great, N3vva," Cora sighed.

* * *

Three days later, Cora was upstairs, texting a friend when she heard the doorbell ring and N3vva answer with, "Oh! Oh, my! Uh…Dr. Tenma, sir! Such a… Such a pleasure to meet you, uh, sir!" All robots knew their creator, Cora thought, as she shot up off her bed and stumbled downstairs. N3vva zipped out of the way and mumbled something about getting tea, obviously flustered at meeting _the_ Dr. Tenma, and as N3vva moved out of the way, Tenma stepped through the door.

There wasn't much that told Cora that four days ago, Tenma had been hazardously close to a violent explosion. There was only a long, paper-thin scar that went right down the hollowed left cheek of a tired face and the faint burn on his right temple, and neither were particularly noticeable. Cora smiled at him, not because she was glad to see him, per se, but because she was glad to see him generally unharmed.

"Cora," he said warmly when he saw her with her relieved smile. "Pleasure to see you."

The smile fell right off her face as she remember exactly _why_ she was relieved to see him unharmed: it was because of an explosion, which had happened because of… "Where's Astro?" Cora demanded. Screw 'pleasure to see you.'

"First, may I come in?"

"After you tell me—"

"Thank you for your hospitality," Tenma replied with uncharacteristic determination and walked right by her, shrugging his coat off as he went and throwing it on the coathanger. Cora nearly protested, was even opening her mouth to do so, when she stopped cold, eyes widening, and suppressed a gag that made a faint choking noise in the back of her throat. She could only watched as he made his way to the end of the hallway, where Tenma turned and lifted one, thin arm to point to his left. "Is the living room this way?"

The fluorescent lightbulbs drew vivid shadows under the scars spiderwebbed over his hands and forearms, stretching his skin into grotesque, writhing 3D tattoos. They seemed to travel like knotted wood up his arms to disappear under the sleeves rolled up and pinned above his elbows, twisting flesh and Cora's stomach. Tenma's eyes met Cora's wide ones, and he smiled again.

"Really, Cora. Is the living room this way?"

Swallowing hard, Cora nodded shakily.

Tenma nodded and ducked through the door to the living room. After staring dazedly at the coat, hanging almost innocently, Cora hurried down to the living room after him.

She found N3vva placing a cup of tea in front of Tenma, who was seated casually on the couch, and N3vva smiled shyly when he thanked her with his usual tepid politeness. Seating herself on the couch opposite him, she waited until N3vva had wheeled through the door to the kitchen before lacing her fingers together and staring him dead in the eye with steely determination. "Alright. Answers. Now."

"Yes, answers now," agreed Tenma, hooking his bony fingers through the handle of the cup and lifting it to his lips. Cora couldn't help but stare at the way the scars wrapped tightly through his skin rippled as he moved.

"What is that?"

Tenma took a sip, eyebrows pulling together slightly with faint confusion. "What is what?"

"Stop beating around the bush, Dr. Tenma. I thought you said answers now?"

"I cannot give clear answers to unclear questions, Cora."

Cora gave a wry smirk. "Alright. What's with the scars?"

He took another sip from the cup before holding it out a good two feet in front of his eyes, appraising the scars on his fingers. "Ah…yes. I was burned a little in the explosion." Before Cora could ask further, Tenma added, "I'm quite surprised, Cora, that your first question wasn't about Astro."

"Oh…" Cora looked away, giving a dry glare to the nearby potted plant. "I was a little distracted by your new ability to fit in with the mafia."

"Funny," remarked Tenma as if he were making a scientific observation, and Cora had no idea if he was being sarcastic, or if he was simply unable to properly express anything other than his somber demeanor.

"So what is up with Astro? What happened?" demanded Cora.

Tenma didn't move for a long time, simply staring at the tea in his hands with a blank expression, before placing it on the saucer and staring at it some more.

Cora felt slight dread growing in her stomach. Eyes narrowing, she leaned forward. "What?"

Looking down, Tenma mumbled something.

"What is it?" Cora snapped.

"He's…gone."

"Gone?" Cora stared at him in more confusion than anger. "Whaddaya mean, _gone_? Do you… Do you mean he was dest—"

"There was no sign of him after the explosion," Tenma said softly. "No, he can't have been destroyed. His only structural weakness is his left shoulder, which tends to dislocate with a shamefully low amount of force, so the joint there is a problem; but the arm itself would take a PeaceKeeper and a half to actually crush. So he can't have been destroyed; I designed him better than to break from a bit of fire like that."

"A bit of fire?" Cora repeated disbelievingly.

Tenma bobbed his head noncommittally. Gee, Cora thought, great feats of physics like this aren't even important enough to him to be modest about.

"So you're telling me," said Cora, "that he ran away after the explosion and he's out there somewhere in Metro City." She looked down, lips pursed. "Why would he run? Why was he down there to begin with? What's he after?"

"It's…a little more complicated than that," admitted Tenma.

"How so?"

"Astro's not in Metro City at all."

* * *

_HE'S A ROBOT_

Zane scratched his head and wrinkled his button nose, then ultimately chuckled at the words. It had taken him years of lessons, months of studying, weeks of frustration, days of practicing, and hours to put it all together and decipher the message still etched into the dirt after all this time, but now he knew what Trash Can had been trying to tell him.

Astro was a robot.

Well, no fricken _duh_.

But there were things beyond that. The Four—Cora, Widget, Sludge, and himself—had all been a tight circle before Astro had shown up, a circle of siblings not of blood, but of bond, and that family had extended to every other orphan in the Hamegg House. However, as close as they were, behind their cheerful smiles and playful teasing, there were dark secrets lurking in everyone's pasts.

And Zane knew every one of them. He was the keeper of the secrets. Even if they hadn't given him permission to know, or even if they didn't know he knew in the first place, he found them all out and clutched them to his chest as tightly as he could and never spoke of them again.

Cora was from Metro City. Zane knew. Zane had always known. Of course he had. What did it matter? It wasn't the worst secret out there.

Thewlyn had accidentally thrown her dog into an incinerator.

Eugenides once threatened a girl with a knife and got transferred six times before he hijacked a transport shuttle to the Surface.

Acela broke all the windows in her school before throwing herself off of Metro City, and whether or not she had intended to survive the fall was debatable.

Mido tinkered with his robutler until he'd unintentionally programmed it to such a confused state it had set his neighborhood—and most of his neighbors—on fire.

Grace's brother shot robots for fun before accidentally getting hooked on a wacked-out drug, and afterwards began shooting Grace for fun.

And Widget's and Sludge's mother had been run over by their father and his pick-up truck so violently her face had been ripped off, and the father had banished them from Metro City before committing suicide.

What could he say? They were orphans. They all had their secrets. It wasn't like Zane had _tried_ to find them out—it'd just happened. Honestly, Zane had felt that they should all be entitled to their own secrets. So when Astro had come around, he'd expected Astro to have his own skeletons in the closet, and Astro hadn't disappointed. Granted, his was undoubtedly the strangest one yet. Zane had heard traumatic and bloody stories, but never one that had _lacked_ trauma and blood to be replaced with calculating, unfeeling electronics and whirring hardware. It had surprised him a bit.

But now it had all made sense.

"It didn't lack blood," he muttered to Trash Can, who waited obediently at his heel. "It simply lacked a reliable narrator and a body to show."

Trash Can barked, and Zane knelt to scratch behind his ear. "Funny, huh? he asked cheerfully. "It's all so crazy. But not that you'd know."

Before Trash Can could reply with another yelp, the transceiver plugged into Zane's left ear crackled to life. "_Y_BOT H6 requesting permission to purchase two kilograms of Niobium; over_," said a voice.

Zane pressed a finger to the button of the transceiver. "Send them to House Four."

_"Copy that."_

Zane nodded absentmindedly to himself, unfocused eyes staring at the hollow place where Zog had been, pressing another button on the earpiece as he did. "House Four? Do you read me?"

Buzzing, popping static, then: _"Y_BOT H4; over."_

"A seller'll be coming your way from House Six sometime today. They might offer two kilograms of Niobium, but only get it if they're offering two kilograms for the price of one. If not, just get one; we need hardly any Niobium. Even if we bust a hundred more times, we'd still have more to spare with just a kilogram."

_"Copy that."_

The line died, and Zane stood, staring at the words _HE'S A ROBOT_ with the arrow pointing to the empty space where Astro had stood with a blank expression. Then, with a slight rolling of the eyes and a smile, he turned away and walked back up the path.

What could have been a peaceful walk through the paths of the Surface was interrupted by the connection opening up again, and a voice saying, _"Y_BOT H2 speaking. We have a visitor for you; over."_

"A regular?"

_"Negative."_

Maybe he should get an actual _human_ to make the transceiver calls, Zane thought dryly. Their robots were just a little bit too formal and boring about their jobs for Zane's taste. "Description?"

_"Gender: male. Age: thirteen. Height: approximately five feet, maybe less. Species: unidentified. Weight—"_

"Wait—how can you _not_ know his species?"

The robot's voice on the other end faltered for a moment. _"Er, readers indicate mechanical activity, but sensory input from visual mechanisms show a figure incongruent with any known robot model. In fact, it matches the schema of a human male. And there's an unidentified energy mass that does not correspond with any known type, human or robot."_

Zane realized his feet had stopped walking, and that his lips had twisted upwards. "Is he there? Like, right in front of you?"

_"Affirmative."_

"Ask him his name."

There was a long length of static, and Zane waited patiently in the muggy Surface heat. Trash Can pranced circles around his feet, wondering why Zane wasn't moving, but Zane ignored him. Come back, he pleaded, come back and tell me his name already! When the static finally cut off, Zane could have danced with glee. "Well?" he demanded.

_"Name: Astro Tenma."_

Zane smiled.

"Tell him something for me."

_"Yes?"_

"I'm looking forward to future business with him."

And the line went dead.


End file.
